


Reckless

by MxPseudonym



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hotel Sex Implied, Mycroft has an attitude, Sassy Mycroft, Sexual Undertones, are you wearing a bra?, cat therapist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26394211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxPseudonym/pseuds/MxPseudonym
Summary: Mycroft cares just as much about your safety as he does your rendezvous.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 78





	Reckless

**Author's Note:**

> I like it when our boy has some fun!  
> Major "Because this is my first life" K Drama vibes

You didn’t even know why Mycroft was ever upset that you were late. He always knew where you were, and this wasn’t exactly something that required you to be early. 

You hurried up the lift and into the hotel suite he paid for every time. At first, it was for anonymity, but now it was mostly because you loved it. The inside was incredible. Mycroft would hate it when you lingered at the entrance, but the artwork on the high ceilings was impeccable. You settled for a slight glance today as you hurried in, only to stop at the full kitchen. 

Mycroft sat pin-straight at the island, his hands folded in front of him next to his mobile phone. He didn’t say anything, nor did he look at you. 

“It’s only,” you began, but promptly stopped when you checked your watch. Nearly twenty minutes late. “Oh.”

“Oh?” He repeated. 

“You’ve been waiting long?” You asked, but you knew the answer. God only knew how much earlier than even the usual time Mycroft arrived at your Tuesday meetings. 

“And why weren’t you answering your phone?" 

"You called?" 

"An understatement.”

He looked to you as you quickly pulled your phone from your bag. It was dead. He stood and walked to you, silently helping you out of your coat and taking your bag like usual. You meekly thanked him and received and even-toned,

“You’re welcome." 

You smirked softly to yourself. This wasn’t anger you were working with, this was frustrated pouting. Mycroft couldn’t know you were aware, however, even when you watched him silently place your phone on a charger. 

"You ask me not to surveil you, and then you do this.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Holmes,” you apologized and went to gently wrap your arms around his waist. 

“If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have done it.”

“Mycroft!” You scolded him. 

“Are you wearing a bra?” He suddenly asked. You checked your shoulder for a strap only to find none. 

“I suppose not.”

“You suppose,” he scoffed. “Is your own choice of garments a mystery to you?” You unraveled from him and glared at the back of his tall form. Playtime was beginning.

“Guess what else I’m not wearing,” you said as you turned and walked with a purpose to the bedroom. 

“It’s frigid, you should have layers,” he called after you, making you laugh while you kicked off your shoes. Everything was lush in this hotel, from the jacuzzi tub to the heavy down blanket you dove under. His footfalls were distinctive to you, and soon he was standing in the doorway. “You’re behaving like a child.”

You flipped the blanket down, revealing your now messy state to the government man. 

“I hope children aren’t behaving in such manners these days,” you said, the words laced with laughter. You looked him over. He was now only in his waistcoat, which made you smirk. “You look excellent, Mr. Holmes.”

You flipped the blanket up. At the moment when you were letting the dark warmth overtake you, you could almost hear Mycroft blushing. He then proceeded as usual with a scolding. 

“Y/n, it is not only entirely too cold outside for you to not wear your layers, but to also walk around on your own. Particularly with no-”

He nearly choked on his words when you dramatically reached your hand out from your hiding place to toss your blouse in any wayward direction. 

“No phone,” he finished. There was a sigh, but you listened carefully for the tale-tell signs of laces being undone. Bingo. “Are you listening?”

The blanket was flipped down for a moment to deliver the message,

“Of course, that voice does things to me.”

Mycroft was now tending to his cufflinks and happened to look quite lovely, getting undressed. He hummed in response to your flirting. 

“You’re reckless,” he tsked, making you laugh. 

“Reckless?”

He came to the side of the bed as he unbuttoned his waistcoat. Your camisole provided a beautiful view of your décolletage, and you ran teasing fingertips along it while watching him. 

“You’re spoiling me today, Mr. Holmes,” you told him, voice breathy from all of the play. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he told you. “If I find out you’re being naughty, I’ll have to punish you myself.”

“Oh?” You let your fingers travel lower, Mycroft’s eyes following intently. When you reached the hem of your skirt, you dragged it up to the tops of your thighs, but in a flash, you were back to hiding under the blankets. “You’ll have to see for yourself, Mr. Holmes!”

For misbehaving, you were left with a sore bum, reddening thighs, and a satisfied smile. You’d taken advantage of the large tub and took a bath, and now you applied your skincare one at a time in the softest white robe. Mycroft allowed himself to smile softly as he leaned against the doorframe. He had another meeting, could you imagine? It was almost 9 PM. You turned to look at him while you patted a serum into your skin.

“You know most of those probably do nothing for you,” He asked. 

“Incorrect, they make me happy,” you said with a big smile. 

“If that’s the case, I approve,” he agreed. “Have you thought more about working for me?" 

Your smile faltered slightly, but you ignored him. When he said "thought more about,” he really meant, “you already said no seven times, but I’ll keep asking until you say yes.” You grabbed the fancy blowdryer and added the attachment. He was about to speak again when you turned on the more preferable loud whirring of forced air. He walked closer, and you expected him to rip the thing out of the wall in frustration. Instead, he took the dryer from your hands. 

“I’ll do it. I have a deep understanding of cosmetology,” Mycroft said. Before you could refute him, your hair was flying all over the place, and you were laughing again. 

“Stop, it’s a diffuser!” You tried to show him the motion but only got more air in your face. Eventually, he did as he was told, then you were ready for bed. Mycroft didn’t understand why you spent extra time doing a “night time routine” when you were just going home anyway. But why not treat yourself to the best in a fancy hotel after vigorous activity? 

You enjoyed the quiet hum of the sleek government car on your way home when Mycroft spoke up. 

“I would like you, at some point, to understand that I’m trying to keep you safe,” he said. You turned away from the window in time to see the flash of vulnerability across his otherwise controlled demeanor. “If you won’t allow me to have you near me at work, or allow me to keep an eye out for you, or call you when you’re late, how should I do that?”

At the moment, you sighed and held his hand in your lap. You bid him and his driver goodnight. It was later, after half a glass of red wine and asking your cat what she thought, you texted him. 

_By all means, keep me safe, Mr. Holmes. - Y/n_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for kudos, comments, and subscribes!


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